Royal Blue Rising
by Freightrain
Summary: When a mentally ill Azula escapes from the Asylum and pursues revenge against that peasant that bested her, she barely survives through sheer will of mental fortitude and luck. Yet she can only remain skeptical of the world she returns to, if it's all just more hallucinations, or if this 'Republic City' is really something more...
1. Prolouge

_Freezing water engulfed her in the remote ice grave, failing to reach the cliff of the glacier. That damn peasant had bested her amidst the ice a second time. Insane! She could still see the shadow of Katara, weary and desperate from battle above the forming ice, waiting for Azula to escape. She'd show her, yes she would. She'd break out at the last moment, just as her breath left her. The water began to freeze, her limbs numbing. Azula paid no heed. The shadow blurred as light dimmed, and her eyes grew wide. Trying to move, her limbs failed to flame, and her lungs soon forced her for fresh air. There was none, only the cold water. One last desperate move, a shove of her neck to force fire through…_

Her throat began to burn as the frozen water flashed to hot steam, escaping into the exposed atmosphere. Azula opened her eyes to the dark night sky, feeling the sway of the waves as the ice melted about her. Katara. Where was the bitch? She looked about, panting through her charred windpipe, gasping for air desperately. In a burst of strength, the last of it was used to completely escape the ice, and falling flat onto it.

She hated the cold.

More than that, she hated the weakness, her inability to stand, to command her burned tongue. Desperately, the pyro princess turned toward the horizon weakly. Far, far in the distance she saw smoke, and weak lighting of a steam ship. Panting, and caving to her weakness, she fired a bright orange pillar of fire into the sky with the last of her strength, hoping her signal would make it to the crew. A second time she tried, and then a third, before darkness overtook her vision once more, as it had in the ice.

_Azula ached seemingly, the memory of her pursuit of the peasant that had finished her for Zuko on the day of Sozin's Comet. A boat she'd stolen and navigated in pursuit of the woman from the asylum, that's where she had been. It made little sense; this wasn't her way, not blind rage. The world ached to her, ice-water clashing against her blue flames atop the glaciers. What had she hoped to accomplish with such blind revenge? There were better ways to torture the trespasser than this, but still her poor style and mangled hair were all that slew from the princess. She felt detached, and the world blurred. Her cheek stung, yet remained untouched. Cold winds had picked up, snow skidding across her face, but she never felt it. She gasped for air._

* * *

Gasping for air, Azula's eyes snapped open through a sputtering of coughs; her coughs. She was inside, but felt the sway of the water, and a weak 'hum' sound coming from above. Shaking her head, she noticed quickly that the ceiling was full of strange, fireless lighting. The room itself was sparingly decorated, utilitarian, and a door opening. She was still firmly on the bed, but the man pointed to her, yelling to others down the hall.

"Her eyes are open, Doc!"

"Go inform the Captain," spoke a second man, stepping into the room with a pat of the back to the first crewman. "I'll take care of it from here." His stepping was wary, and his face looked old, but appeared to be well practiced. "So, you're finally awake, miss, are you?" She hated being patronized, but only a wheeze of dismissal escaped her throat, and a throbbing pain rekindled itself from her innards.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy there. You've got major burns from your mouth and nostrils all the way through your esophagus." A sturdy arm weighed heavily on her shoulder, pressing her back down as she tried to look at the man. "I've been treating it, but I can't say that's something I see every day." Slowly he walked to the cupboard, taking a bottle of water and pouring it into a pan. She heard a click and felt a weak but intense flame.

The once-Princess of the Fire Nation could barely manipulate it.

The man went without noticing as he kept talking. "Hopefully by the time we get to Republic City you can at least talk again. I'm hard pressed to say I work miracles, but given a couple more weeks of treatment you ought to sound just fine once you're fully healed." He shook his head, turning back to her. "You just focus on getting your rest; as interested as I am at how you got stranded so far out, I guess I'm just going to have to wait for an answer."

As if she planned to answer him. Her pain largely faded now that Azula had given up on speaking, yet watched with interest as the man picked up a large black and white paper.

"Have you heard about that Amon figure?" he asked, trying to occupy her time. "Think he's a real nut, not that I blame him. But the world's always going to have bending. Don't think his 'Equalist' movement is ever going to succeed so long as the four nations don't go to war again." She silently scoffed at the mention of the four nations, before realizing nothing he had actually mentioned made sense. Equalists? Amon? Even Republic city made no sense. Turning ever so slightly his way, she raised her arm, looking over what she could of the paper.

"What's that, miss?" She pointed at the paper, scowling, and he brought it closer. The title she gazed over quickly, its stories largely irrelevant, the date point-what? Her eyes widened, and she tapped the date on the page. "It's a couple weeks old, yea," he muttered. "Been a while since I've been able to pick up a new one back at port." Her head fell back onto the pillow as she let the news sink in.

Everything at home was gone, her dethroned, depowered father was gone, her armies were gone, and those loyal to her were gone, her very royalty ripped from her grasp. Though a mirror, her mother turned and gave her one last proud smile, before walking out the door.

It seemed unfathomable, but the Crown Princess Azula had pulled an Avatar.

Almost seventy years had passed in an instant for her, and for the first time in a decade she felt the pressure of intimidation; her life had become a blank state, devoid of purpose or goal. Her heart pulsed, thoughts racing as quickly as her blood. The fearless warrior closed her eyes tight, attempting to escape the implication. She was lost, either amidst her own mind in the asylum, or in time.


	2. Dawnpoint

Azula's hair annoyed her. While it was less of a problem now that, along with her composure, it had been reordered into something respectable, it still blew in the wind as she sat on the deck of the enormous cargo ship. Nor was she entirely enthused with her light blue sailor's outfit, replacing her worn rags from the ice. For all it was worth, she had to concede it was good cover. Maybe it was less these imperfections that drew her ire so much as her return to simple breathing exercises, something she had not done in well over a decade; or eight.

A week had passed about, she guessed, since her so called rescue; time was of little consequence to her now. Azula's voice was finally coming back; the throat wounds were healing nicely. She grudgingly admitted the positive effects of waterbender healing. She took in another deep breath, practicing a small mustache of fire as her lungs gave their air to her nose. Patience she had, but idle waiting had quickly worn thin on her already, and she was quite content to get away from the crew for as long as possible in between meals.

"You look like that throat of yours is healing up nice," came from behind her. She did not move so much as a muscle, her ears precisely picking up his footsteps as the Captain approached. "You managed to find that voice of yours yet?" She refrained from physical assault.

"Yes," she muttered. Her cold voice was still raspy from her unorthodox method of survival. As easy as it was to manage the pain of it, the fire princess also kept back her verbal jousts to the man, instead keeping her focus on her breathing. She had no intention of giving way to any captors again anytime soon.

"Well that's good to hear!" His jovialness brought a scowl to her face, unapparent to the bold bellied captain. "Maybe we can finally get a name out of you now, eh lass?" The question, so simple, caught her off guard. Knowledge was power, and after a brief moment of thought, let her tongue slip a name with a smirk.

"Suki."

"Suki, huh?" he chuckles. "I take it you're from one of the colonial cities then, named after Earth ancestors." 'Suki' simply stared at him. "Since you're a firebender and all." Her thoughts raced, but she nodded in response. His conclusion did make sense once mingling between benders happened. It might help alleviate suspicion of her true identity, though she doubted how much anyone knew about her outside history books. He turned his head to watch the endless water, just as she seemed to be lost in.

Two fingers pointed out before her as an orange blaze flung towards the horizon. She gave the captain a dead look out of the corner of her eye. He had opened his mouth, but it quickly reversed course for silence at the sight. Returning to her own business, she waved him off while taking another deep breath. There was quite the road of recovery, it would seem, before she could perform at her prime once more. Her breath ejected quicker and louder than usual, yet did not impede the captain's broad smile as he climbed down to the next deck.

Alone at last, she took out her hairpiece from her pocket, the one part of her garb that might still give her away. Her hair was instead bound by a piece of peasant's cloth, the color of the water tribe. Her father was almost certainly dead, and by now Zuzu had been on the throne for years most certainly. The more she thought about retaking the palace and the throne, the less she thought it was feasible in this distant time. As the Avatar had once been made the enemy, so soon would she, should anyone find out.

"Of course, no one will," she mulled over quietly to herself. A quick smile left her as her statuses of enemy in this world gave way to consideration of what she might become. To expect a princess to grovel like a commoner for pay was beneath her, yet without the royal title, she would have to find a way back into power, and that could be a problem. '_Challenge_,' she corrected herself with a sly grin. There was nothing as vulnerable as an unsuspecting world, something that had held true for Ba Sing Se.

Yet without anything more to go on, especially about this 'Republic City,' she knew not where or how she might re-attain her rightful rule of the world. There were too many variables, she decided, and thought it best to take a back seat for the first several weeks. Especially to find out how the current Avatar was holding up; as long as that airbender was alive he would be a constant potent threat to anything she did, should he find out. Of course, there was the matter of the comet too, in thirty years down the line.

Plenty of time to prepare for it's arriva-

"Hey, Suki!" Her head turned once more to the captain, his teeth white and his smile wide, balancing with her pointed scowl at the interruption. "The boys were wondering if you wanted to listen to the pro-bending match on the radio. The Fire Ferrets are playing soon, and it's definitely a match worth hearing!" Not wishing to speak so quickly again, Azula's eyebrow rose as if she were half alien*. Whatever he was talking about, it would be a good chance to pick up on any new things in this world.

"Sure, why not?" she spoke half-heartedly. At the very least, she might fill in the new gaps in her vocabulary regarding 'pro-bending' and 'radio.'

* * *

"… and the fabulous bending brothers have done it again, folks! It's another Fire Ferret upset!" As exciting as it sounded, it paled in comparison to some of the sports she had watched while still princess. Of course the fact that it came from a box provided with a very poor visual for her, not that she needed it. On the other hand, a bending sport that involved all three types of bending?

As superior as firebending was, she had to admit there was an element of curiosity to it that enticed her. Working with the earthbending Dai Lee had proven the value of other bending arts, if just barely, to have kept them around. If they played together in this Republic City, then they most likely worked together. There must be a formidable army there. Azula smiled.

Escaping from the backslapping and general commoner ruckus, Azula returned outside through the hatch. The waves no longer whispered as if it were an enemy, and still she could not decide if it was a pleasant enough change, or a sour lapse in the power she once possessed. Climbing up, she quickly tried once more to exhibit her mastery over blue flames. Her candle finger only glowed orange, and in frustration she continued her climb. The orange glow took her scowl for what felt as though an eternity of focused breathing, before her eyes caught another glow on the horizon. It was gold like the 'electric' lightning lights 'wired' throughout the ship, but cast a shade of wealth across the ocean. Towers taller than anything she had ever seen, or so she thought, stood off in the distance. This was their destination, the port of Republic City, and likely the city itself. If this was a city where you could live among those of such power, such influence, then perhaps this wouldn't be so bad a time after all.

Her grin never wavered as another glow appeared on the horizon, the glimmer of day marking the dawnpoint.

*Spock would be proud, if it were in his nature to be such.

**AN: Expect things to pick up soon, now that we're getting to the city. I may go back and merge this chapter with the previous as they both really serve as a prelude to the main bulk of the story.**


End file.
